


can you let your baby be mine

by orphan_account



Series: one-shots or long fics with titles based on lyrics [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Break Up, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Dan Howell, M/M, One Shot, Other, Over the Years, Sexuality Crisis, Strangers to Friends, Swearing, Title Based on a Song, it's secondary school but close enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: alt universe where dnp are both starting at a new secondary school. they become best friends quickly but dan develops feelings even faster. this documents their friendship over the years. all is well until phil gets into a relationship, but not with dan. dan gets jealous but shoves his feelings down by dealing in with it his own way. at a final year party, things escalate and confessions are made but how will they deal with the truth?—hiatus because i had the realization this is actual shit





	1. years 7 and 9

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm still trash at summaries but i'm back maybe?  
> this is a longer oneshot, (i'm bad at fic terms but that's not the point.)  
> notes:  
> -i'm not from the uk or gb so i'm shit at these terms about school and years and things so please be patient with me being an uneducated hoe.  
> -this is in dan's perspective.  
> -i'm separating the story into sections by the ages. sorry it's complicated but i really love chaptered ones and sorry if this torture to wait for...  
> -the most intense it'll get is mentioning the sexy times ;) and making out i guess.  
> -there are swears so if you can't handle, click away. otherwise, hello. welcome. the story is below.

**year 7**

"Darling, get on with it. We're at the school and I still have to take Jacob to his school," my mother had been trying to get me out the door for five minutes since we pulled up to the brick hell. That's an exaggeration but the kids in there belong in hell. Most of them, anyway. The ones I know from my primary all do, though. They always called me really shitty things that I don't want to repeat. Well, what my mother wouldn't want me repeating, more like.

"Daniel?" she turns her entire body to face me from the driver's seat.

Fuck, I hate it when my mother calls me by my full name.

"I know that secondary school sounds so intimidating," she uses a form of jazz hands when she says 'intimidating.'

"It doesn't," I mumble, interrupting her. My mother chuckles and wraps one of my curls around her finger, carefully.

"Then why aren't you getting out the car?" she queries, removing her hand from my hair and theatrically flapping her hands around, laughing after to make sure she was joking.

"Fine, I'm scared," I admit, tilting my head up like a helpless puppy. My mother pities me and pats my shoulder.

"Why, darling?" her brown eyes. matching mine, wide as she asks. Everyone tells me that I'm a mirror image of her. Maybe that's why everyone called me gay, since I look exactly like a woman, "I went to this secondary and I survived. I mean, barely, but that's not the point..."

She notices my scared expression.

"Okay, I'm bloody terrible at this parenting mumbo-jumbo," my mother shakes her head and looks down, laughing. She grabs my shoulders and looks me head on, "You'll be fine. It's just six hours with a bunch of prats and pricks-- oop, can't say that! Don't repeat that around your brother or I'll be having a long talk with his teachers-- anyway, you'll be with a bunch of not-nice-people for a few hours but just ignore them and find newer, nicer people to talk to that won't be mean and intimidating to you. That's what I did and I turned out fine."

She pauses thoughtfully.

" _Okay_ . I turned out _okay_."

I laugh.

"There you go! Now go on," she opens the car door on my side and pushes me out, "Love you!"

I say my goodbye and close the door. I turn around and expect to have the assholes who always picked on me to be there, picking on me as usual, but they're being tormented by the upperclassmen.

It's what they deserve.

I walk freely from the pickup lane to the front doors.

-

The day moves pretty quickly with all the introductions from the teachers and the students taking up the entire class periods.

Time slows slightly, however, during lunch.

"Anyone sitting here?" a voice that has an accent that I can't place my finger on asks me.

I brace for one of the pricks, as my mother said earlier, to be there to beat me up but when I do turn, distracting turquoise eyes come into view. Ginger hair and a lanky frame of a boy holding a tray also come with those eyes.

"I, um," I stammer, "Yeah. I mean, no! No! No one is, uh, sitting here."

God, I'm a shit-show.

"You sure?" the boy smirks. I turn to face the rest of the empty table, he looks with me.

"Yeah, no, sorry. I don't think there's any empty spaces," I stifle a smile but fail.

He laughs and sits next to me, placing his tray next to my pathetic brown sack lunch.

"I'm Phil," the boy with the eyes that caught my attention outstretches his arm.

I look at his arm and see he isn't wearing his uniform jacket. Phil's arm spotted with freckles contrasting with his milky white skin. I take his hand and shake it.

"Dan," I respond, "Where's your coat?"

Phil lets go of my hand and turns his head to the table of the bullies who were just being picked on by upperclassmen, but are now sitting with them.

"Ahh, they went to my primary," I understand his pain, "Which one did you come from since a lot of 'em merged this year?" I ask, stuffing my mouth with my turkey sandwich.

"I'm actually a transfer student. I've been from most small towns in the North but the most recent move is from Manchester."

"Oh, that's an interesting life you live there, Phil," I laugh, "the farthest I've been is London for a 'family bonding experience' my mom insisted on."

The conversation continues on about our families, school, stuff like that. We become fast friends and make plans to hang out.

For the rest of the times I see him or talk to him, I can’t focus on anything except his eyes the color of a morpho butterfly.

 

\--

 

**year 9**

"Fuck!"

"Language, Daniel" the ginger haired boy teases me as I burn myself on my hair straightener.

"It's not my fault this piece of shit is as hot as the fucking sun!" I whine. I'm standing in front of the mirror in the one shared bathroom in my house while the boy sits on the edge of the tub, watching me.

"Why do you have to swear so loudly. Your 10 year old brother will pick up on it," Phil goes back to tying his black tennis shoes or pulling up his bright indigo ankle socks or whatever other thing he was going to wear to defy the uniform rules. He acts like such a rebel when he's as harmless as a newborn kitten.

"I couldn't care less. He's too cute to swear," I unplug the straightener, after finishing the final curl, "Why don't you ever swear? Are you too cute to swear, or something?" I regret the words as soon as they spill out of my mouth. I bury my face in the bathroom cabinet to cover the red spot on my cheek that heats up. I don't know why, but I've recently been more flirtatious with my longtime friend. I don't think I have feelings for him but I've never had feelings for anyone else like this.

"No. I'm just pure, unlike you... you... dumpster mouth," he attempts an insult and I squawk a laugh in reply, "What?" Phil gets flustered.

"You could've called me a twat or prick or anything else yet that's what you choose?" I ask, my blush disappearing instantly.

"I don't know! I tried," his face suddenly lights up, "If we're pointing out bad decisions, why do you straighten your curls? They suit you better than your scene kid hair."

I gasp to try to get rid of the attention from the red spot's return, "How dare you insult my fringe?"

We both laugh until there's a knock on the door, startling both of us.

"Daniel, darling, can you and Phil hurry up? I don't think Mrs. Lester would appreciate her son being late to school because of me," my mother's voice comes from the other side.

Phil covers his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Sure, Mum," I respond. Once I'm sure she's gone, I turn to Phil, "What the fu...frick is so funny?" I censor myself, in case she's still there.

"I don't know what the 'fufrick', Daniel, darling," he giggles.

I grab his arm and pull him up from the edge of the tub, "Come on, we're going to be late."

"And who's fault would that be? You burn your curls for twenty minutes every day!"

"Oh, shut up!"

-

"Miss Smith is such a bitch."

I glance to the person who plops down next to me and slides his tray next to my brown sack lunch. I double take and my eyes widen to see the self proclaimed 'pure' Phil Lester saying those words.

"Philip! What happened to the boy who scolded me for swearing this morning in the bathroom? What, are you going to start smoking cigarettes and screwing every girl in your path now, too?" I mock a mother, scolding her son for cursing.

"No. And it’s not like it’s my first time swearing,” Phil mumbles the last part. I don’t answer for a few seconds, “Sorry," he looks down at his fingers that are tangled in his lap.

"Don't be," I pat his shoulder and turn to face him "I'm just joking."

"Oh," his topaz eyes glimmer as they look back up to me. Our faces are inches away from each other for a second too long to be considered straight. Fighting the urge to close the distance, I punch his shoulder, and get back to my food.

While talking about why Miss Smith was the reason of the swear uttered by Phil and how she sent him to the office for his socks and tennis shoes, how he deserved it because he was disobeying the dress-code, and him punching me in the shoulder because I disagree with him, I wonder why I was so tempted to kiss him.

Was I even tempted or are my bullies getting in my head?

A taunting voice interrupts my thoughts and our conversation, yet again.

"Hey look it's the resident gays of Reading."

It's the kids who made fun of me in primary school and even for the past two years of secondary. Chris and his entourage Charles, Jimmy, and Greg are the ones who got in with the upperclassmen that first day and even bully them to the point of being above them.

"What do you want Chris?" Phil asks, unamused.

"Nothing, just wondering when your wedding is?" his buddies behind him guffaw like they're above us because they're rich and popular with the girls.

"Fuck off, Chris," I try to get him to leave.

"Whatever, I'll leave you guys to make out then," Chris jokes and the boys surrounding him laugh like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard. They head off to their corner of the lunchroom, bumping into some poor girl making her drop her books. They laugh and high-five.

"What a wanker," I mutter, trying to cover the red spot on my cheek.

"Chris used to be so nice! What the hell happened..." Phil also mutters as his face comes down from the blush.

I shrug in response. After a few moments of the awkward silence of chewing our food, I speak up.

"Are you gay?" I blurt, looking Phil directly in his wide blue eyes, focusing on one of the yellow specks in them.

He avoids my gaze as he answers in a mumble, "I dunno. I don't think about only girls anymore..."

Phil's sea colored eyes shoot back to mine, as if searching in my dark orbs would give him the answer, "What about you?"

I swallow around the lump in my throat as I contemplate my answer.

“Same as you.”

 


	2. year 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phil,” I whisper-shout, “Come on! My mum’ll be pissed.”
> 
> He gets up and winces again because of his head. Phil recovers from his headache and stumbles toward me.
> 
> We get over to where my car is parked across the street and he’s still shocked about something when he sits down in the passenger seat.
> 
> “What’s the matter with you?” I smirk as I put the key into the slot to start the car. Phil turns to me with a serious expression but still wide eyes. My smile drops from my face.
> 
> “Dan,” he starts, “Did we… kiss?”

**year 11**

I wouldn’t say I’m gay, but I know I’m not straight.

The reason I know I’m not straight is sitting next to me, our shoulders not allowing a centimeter of space between us.

Well, he’s not exactly _sitting_ next to me. More like sleeping next to me.

Woah, okay that’s a bit intense. Not like in that way but…

Phil’s mop of freshly dyed black hair tickles my neck as he shuffles in his sleep, the back of his head resting gently on my shoulder as the rest of his long frame splays out on the length of the grey suede couch. It’s 7 in the morning on New Years Day and we’re in the expensive living room of a kid in our year who doesn’t hate us and invited us to their party.

It’s an advancement from last year where everyone called us “fags.” At least now we have an ally. Sometime at the beginning of this year, this one kid in a year above us called PJ was in my French class and we became friends because of a project. Quickly, Phil and PJ also became friends through me.

Low and behold, PJ invited us to his friend’s for a New Years Party, that anyone who has some spot on the higher part of the social ladder was also invited to. So basically, most kids in Year 10 through sixth form and that’s about half our secondary school.

The party had alcohol, really fucking loud pop music, couples making out in the corners or screwing in one of the fifty rooms, and furniture dunked into the inground pool out back. Typical teenage party with the parents who own the estate gone to some other country.

Everyone had a drink at the party, Phil and myself included. Phil had some more than me since I had to drive us home, which caused some sides of him I don’t see often.

An example being his flirtatious side.

Most girls that passed by him who were also intoxicated got a pickup line thrown at them which resulted in those girls sitting in his lap. There was one guy he also flirted with but I didn’t bother to catch his name since they disappeared outside and I had some kind of concoction of angry fire burning in my chest.

A few hours later, I realized it was jealousy so I tried to make him jealous by talking to this one girl. She was nice, had wavy brown hair, and was really sweet but I didn’t like her in that way. Phil didn’t care anyway.

I decided to just hang out with PJ instead. We played on his Wii with some of the popular friends he has and I distracted myself from Phil. PJ then left the room to get something to drink and everyone dispersed slowly to another room.

The countdown then started and everyone was pairing up to find someone to kiss for the New Year. I was sat in one of the living rooms, sulking on a couch, when Phil came up to me. I looked at up him, still slightly mad, but he smiled and it immediately made me forgive him and ignore his tousled black hair and crookedly buttoned shirt that whoever he just made out with failed to button correctly. His sky blue eyes obscured by his very large pupils. We sat together and watched everyone kiss at midnight.

Phil and I sat and talked until everyone around us fell asleep in their respective areas, a few in the same room as us. Phil eventually fell asleep and his head dropped onto my shoulder. I fell asleep sitting up in the uncomfortable position and Phil curled into me.

Now, I lift myself carefully off the couch and try not to wake Phil, placing a pillow under his head. I tiptoe, trying not wake Phil and all the hungover party-goers who crashed in the living room, to get my bookbag by the door when I hear a muffled groan. I turn to the source of the noise, Phil.

His eyebrows furrow and his closed eyes turn into a way that makes it look like he’s wincing. I realize that I left his face directly in a ray of sun coming through the window.

“Dan?” Phil mumbles, opening his eyes. I walk back toward him and stand over him. He sits up with wide eyes, looks around, and realizes where he is.

“What happened last night? I can’t remember shit,” his face twists and he reaches for his head, “How much did I drink? My head is pounding.”

“I don’t know how much you drank but you probably kissed a lot of girls,” I whisper, trying to not wake everyone else and hint to him that he should be quiet, too. I walk back over to the door and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and motioning for him to get up so we can leave, but his eyes are wide and he seems shocked.

“Phil,” I whisper-shout, “Come on! My mum’ll be pissed.”

He gets up and winces again because of his head. Phil recovers from his headache and stumbles toward me.

We get over to where my car is parked across the street and he’s still shocked about something when he sits down in the passenger seat.

“What’s the matter with you?” I smirk as I put the key into the slot to start the car. Phil turns to me with a serious expression but still wide eyes. My smile drops from my face.

“Dan,” he starts, “Did we… kiss?”

Now my eyes are wide. He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing.

“I’m sorry?” I turn to him.

“Did we?” Phil searches my eyes for an answer again.

“No, what makes you think that?” I ask him, turning the key into the ignition and facing the road, now.

“Well, I kinda don’t remember what happened last night very well but I remember going into a room with a guy and… um, you know.”

My heart stops and I nearly get whiplash at the rate I snap my head to look at him.

“You had sex?!”

“No! No, oh my god,” Phil looks up at me again, “Almost, though.”

I gave him a look so he’d elaborate.

“I just remember it wasn’t a girl, he tried to take my shirt off, gave me some… bites… and then I said for him to stop since we were both drunk. After that I just remember waking up next to you on the couch,” Phil looked guilty as he said it.

“Well, don’t worry, it wasn’t me,” I mutter, “But you did come to me all messy at midnight.”

Phil met my eyes again.

“No, we didn’t kiss then either.”

He let out a breath.

“Wow, thanks,” I snort.

“Sorry,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling.

-

“Hey boys,” PJ slides his tray down next to me.

The curly haired boy bounces his leg impatiently and takes a bite of his apple.

Phil scrunches his nose, “Why are you so happy today?”

He puts his apple down, swallows the bite, and prepares to make an announcement.

“Guess who just got asked to go steady?” PJ looks between Phil and I, waiting for our reactions.

“I’m assuming you did?” I smile and feel a sense of pride for him.

He nods.

“Peej, that’s amazing!” Phil exclaims, “Who’s the lucky girl?”

PJ’s smile gets wider.

“Actually, it’s the lucky _boy_.”

Phil’s jaw drops and I look around the lunchroom to see who it could be.

“Save yourself the time, he’s got detention,” PJ turns back to his food.

“Ooh, a bad boy,” I nudge him with my elbow.

“You could say that,” PJ smirks.

“Who is it?” Phil asks, drumming the table for emphasis of his impatience.

PJ turns a little red before he answers.

“Well, he went to the New Years party we were at weeks ago,” he starts  
“That’s where you were all night you dirty little…” Phil jokes.

I punch his shoulder, “Look who’s talking.”

“Wait, what?” PJ laughs uncomfortably, “Did you two…”

“No!” Phil and I answer at the same time and look at each other.

PJ goes on to tell us about his new boyfriend when Chris walks into the lunchroom.

“Ugh, just make sure _he_ doesn’t know about your relationship,” Phil mutters.

“Why?” PJ asks.

“He made fun of us constantly a couple years back because he thought we were gay,” I answer.

Chris starts walking over before PJ could respond.

He opens his mouth and I’m ready to hear him say something about ‘planning a gay threesome’ but what comes out instead knocks the wind out of me.

“Hey babe,” Chris sits next to PJ.

Phil and I stare at them in shock.

“Um, guys. This is my boyfriend, Chris,” PJ mumbles uncomfortably as Chris wraps his arm around him.

“Right, listen,” Chris starts, facing us all, “I’m sorry about what I’ve said and called you guys but it was all pent-up confusion and anger at myself that I let out on you lot. Please forgive me?”

I smirk, “I never thought I’d live to see the day that Chris fucking Kendalls would apologize to me,” I glance at PJ who’s sitting very awkwardly in Chris’s arms, “You’re forgiven.”

Chris and PJ let out a breath and smile but Phil sits silently, eating his food.

“What about you, Lester?” Chris asks.

Phil shrugs, “I dunno. Sure.”

I feel like he doesn’t really forgive him but Chris is oblivious to that fact. Just then, an angry looking teacher walks in and scans the lunchroom like a hawk. Her eyes land on our table and Chris pops up from his seat.

“I’m really sorry, again, but I have got to go,” Chris runs out of the room through the door opposite the teacher, leaving behind and awkward silence between Phil, PJ and I.

“He seems nicer than he used to be,” Phil mutters.

He gets up with his tray, dumps it into the trash and practically stomps out of the lunchroom.

PJ and I look at each other.

I stand up and go after him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this was boring or short but it'll get spicier in the next chapter!!!


End file.
